


Not Nothing

by merelyafigment, visionofblue (merelyafigment)



Series: Caregivers [1]
Category: Oz (TV)
Genre: Community: hardtime100, F/M, Gen, Shippy Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 16:09:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29794467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merelyafigment/pseuds/merelyafigment, https://archiveofourown.org/users/merelyafigment/pseuds/visionofblue
Summary: Miguel Alvarez tends to a minor injury in the hospital ward. (Written for a Hardtime100 challenge.)
Relationships: Miguel Alvarez & Gloria Nathan, Miguel Alvarez/Gloria Nathan
Series: Caregivers [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2194935
Comments: 3
Kudos: 3





	Not Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Hardtime100 community (DW & LJ) Challenge 268.
> 
> Prompt: thank you

Un-fucking-believable. Bleeding on work detail due to a damn self-inflicted accident, not a PCP-enraged patient. 

(Miguel was going to tell people the PCP version, because _fuck that_.) 

"Little tip I learned in med school? Glaring at it won't help." 

Doc Nathan’s interruption drew his huff of laughter while he rinsed in the private room sink. Doc had seen his idiotic fuck up causing the small cut gracing his naked chica. 

Didn’t bat an eyelash now, taking his dripping forearm in her firm careful grip for examination. 

"Good news. She'll live, and so will you. Dry off, so I can disinfect it and apply a bandaid to her—ouch! Poor girl." 

Joking. 

She was teasing and tutting, amused rather than judging the racy tattoo. 

Doc Nathan had steel in her spine. Dedicated, unfazed, and tough as shit. 

Not just-- she cared, too. Hard to find those things together in a person anywhere near this shithole. 

"You got better things to do. Ain’t a shank wound." 

"It's my job, Miguel." 

"Pretty sure the nurses handle bandaids." 

A kindness, her being gentle even with the disinfecting sting. "Why’re _you_ helping me?" 

"Can't have anything happen to my best orderly. Need all the help I can get." 

"Sure." Vocalized disbelief, even though he could sort of just tell she really _meant_ it. 

Same way he could tell that wasn't all of it. 

"You know, I grew up around dozens of boys like you." Looked down as she smoothed the bandaid, voice softer than usual, like wistful or something. 

"I'm a dime a dozen, huh? Just another barrio boy?" 

Heard that before, plenty. 

Eyes on his were warm and firm, too. Not soft anymore -- steady. "Thought so, but I was wrong. I meant it, Miguel. You’re good here, unlike most.” Miguel knew the source of her mouth's wry quirk, both saw plenty of bitter lazy staff. “You actually care.” 

Oh. 

"Good to go." She let him go with a light reassuring pat. "Back to work. I need you at bed 12." 

Strode away, all busy determination.

And kindness. Real. (She wasn't a dime either, not that way.) 

“Yo, Doc--" 

Confident steps halted to hear him, 'cause the Doc listened like that. 

“Gracias.”

“De nada, Miguel.” 

Used his first name now, too. 

Wasn't _nothing_ , nah -- it was rare.

***  
End

**Author's Note:**

>  **Author's Blather** : Do I actually want to write/read these two together? Yes. Can I think of a way to have that happen without Ryan arranging Miguel's murder? No. So this is all I can do.


End file.
